We are now at the Mia-Mia, lying between McIvor and Castlemaine (a roadside public-house).  We are all right enough, except as regards cleanliness, and everything has gone well, barring the necessary break-downs, and wet weather.  We have to travel slowly, on account of the camels.  I suppose Professor Neumayer will overtake us in a day or two.  I have been agreeably disappointed in my idea of the camels.  They are far from unpleasant to ride; in fact, it is much less fatiguing than riding on horseback, and even with the little practice I have yet had, I find it shakes me less.  I shall write to you from Swan Hill, if not before.

Your affectionate son,

William J. Wills.

. . .

From Terrick Terrick, he writes, on the 31st of August, to his friend Mr. Byerly:  “Riding on camels is a much more pleasant process than I anticipated, and for my work I find it much better than riding on horseback.  The saddles, as you are aware, are double, so I sit on the back portion behind the hump, and pack my instruments in front, I can thus ride on, keeping my journal and making calculations; and need only stop the camel when I want to take any bearings carefully; but the barometers can be read and registered without halting.  The animals are very quiet, and easily managed, much more so than horses.”

His next letter to me is dated from Swan Hill, September 8th:—­

My dear father,

We arrived here on Saturday last, early in the afternoon.  I had not time to write by the last post, which closed on the same evening.  We are all in good health and spirits.  The road we are about to take is not that which I had anticipated, namely, down the side of the Lower Darling, as we hear there is literally nothing for the horses to eat; so that we are going right across the country to the Darling, passing the Murray at this place.  We leave Swan Hill about the middle of next week, and shall then be out of the colony of Victoria.  We are expecting Professor Neumayer up shortly,—­a scrap of paper to-day by the postman says to-morrow.  I am rather disappointed at not having yet an assistant surveyor, but I hope he will arrive shortly.  Letters in future had better be directed to the care of Dr. Macadam, the secretary, as they will have to go by sea.

. . .

On the 17th of September he writes to his mother:—­

Balranald, September 17th, 1860.

My dear mother,

As I have an opportunity of sending a few lines by this mail, I have determined to take advantage of the chance, because I know how glad you will be to receive them; but I have not time sufficient to give you any account of our journey.  We are now at the last township at which we shall touch on our way towards the interior of the continent.  It is an out-of-the-way place, situated on the lower part of the Murrumbidgee River.  Our journey so far